


Chronic Attitude Syndrome

by Phosphorite



Series: dumbass medical au [1]
Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Medical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:05:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1652891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorite/pseuds/Phosphorite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the universe where the boy had a father who wasn't a fisherman; this is the universe where that father was a doctor who owned a clinic in on the coast. This is the universe where the boy never joined a swimming club, never met a certain someone, but graduated at the top of his class to serve a life in medicine instead.</p><p>This is the universe where at the age of twenty-six, he returns to his hometown.</p><p>Even in this universe, it's attitude at first sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> They say when you can't write, you should write what you know.
> 
> This is the product of that - probably the only real AU I will write for this fandom (never say never though), because it is pure, unashamed catharsis for sitting through way too many case descriptions of kids with ear infection and old ladies with arrhythmia. This story was born from all the countless hours stuck at work, and the "what if...?" thoughts that resulted.
> 
> I hope you enjoy.
> 
> (Please note that while I work with medical case descriptions on a daily basis, I am not a trained professional myself, so please excuse factual inconsistencies.)
> 
> (Please also note my beta is a stupid hag who has a Real Life, so I will do my best to fix any remaining typos as I catch them.)

He never wanted his life to sound like something out of a cheesy harlequin novel.

(That's not... )

No, let's try this again.

He never _imagined_ his life as something straight out of a cheesy harlequin novel, regardless of the fact that his mother was more than slightly acquainted with the type: the stories where a handsome stranger moves into a little town, rumples a few feathers and shakes up the status quo, and then––

(No, that's all wrong again. That's making it sound like a–– well, to be fair–– ah.)

Let's try this one more time.

Once upon a time there was a boy, right?

And maybe in another universe that boy might have, you know, had a dad who died in a fishing accident, and then that boy decided to follow his father's dream to became an Olympic swimmer, yeah? And in that universe, maybe that boy went on to meet a certain someone (three certain someones) and accidentally changed himself forever.

But this isn't that universe.

This is the universe where that boy had a father who wasn't a fisherman; this is the universe where that father was a doctor who owned a clinic in a small town on the coast. This is the universe where the boy never joined a swimming club, never met a certain someone (three certain someones), never left to a faraway country abroad; instead, he moved to Tokyo at the age of 13 to attend a private school, and eventually graduated at the top of his class to serve a life in medicine.

At the age of twenty-six he returns to his hometown.

Not because he wants to –why would anyone do that? he has things to see! places to be!– but because he has no choice.

After all, even in this universe, the dad dies.

That part never changes.

 

*

 

_On Monday, the patients of the day include: an old lady with heart palpitations, two children with influenza symptoms, a lady who has cut her middle finger with a kitchen knife and requires three 4-0 stitches._

In a tiny clinic atop a hill, Matsuoka Rin stares down a 2 month old demon spawn who wriggles in her mother's arms. The ceiling fan whirrs away at maximum speed on a sweltering June afternoon while the baby tries to kick him in the face, and Rin briefly wonders if perhaps today is The Day he invents a way to perform heart and lung auscultation from across the room.

Today is not that day, though. Today is, as it happens, just like any other day in his unremarkable boring life. The young mother before him is like any other mother, and the baby in her arms is like any other baby; what _isn't_ like any other is his sudden urge to scream, but only because it normally takes until noon for Rin to hit that stage.

He doesn't scream. Instead, he tells the lady there is nothing wrong with her child; sometimes kids just start hiccupping in the middle of the night, and it doesn't mean they're about to die.

 _Ah, that's wonderful_ , she responds with a nervous smile. _See, I wondered, but with children this young you never know, you never know_.

He offers her an encouraging nod. _You never know._

It's a nod that signals the visit is over; smarter than most, she understands to take the cue. There's a mild _cling_ in the hallway, and dusty light floods in when Rin closes the door after her.

He takes a seat. Leans back. Stares at the ceiling.

The ceiling fan keeps whirring around in circles, on and on and on with a light hum.

From the other side of the wall, he can hear Ryuugazaki doing his best to cut in on some old lady demanding a bedside ultrasound. Rin knows he shouldn't laugh, but he can literally picture the scene, sprinkled with snide remarks such as, _Why am I treated by you and not Kato-sensei?_ or _Boy, do you even know anything about medicine?_ – in these past six months, Rin has become more than acquainted with the type. After all, the fact that Kato-sensei is older than Rin and Ryuugazaki put together must mean he possesses double the competence.

In an ideal world this would be the case.

In an ideal world Kato-sensei would not actually be half deaf and two thirds blind.

In an ideal world, Rin never would have had to resort to hiring fellow BMs fresh out of medical school or relics from the stone age, just because all the former employees fled like rats the moment Rin's father passed away.

(Then again, in an _ideal world_ , Rin's father would still be alive and running this clinic, so that line of fantasy never ends well.)

He takes a deep breath.

Reality might be dull and disappointing, but it's still reality; in less than twenty minutes the next patient will walk through that door, and Rin will stand up to greet them, force on a smile that Ryuugazaki claims scares children, and pray that today might be over more swiftly than the one before.

The ceiling fan whirrs, whirrs, and the papers on Rin's desk flutter with an abrupt gust of wind.

He catches them right before they topple to the floor, eyes running over the appointment scheduled at 11:15, and comes to a brief pause.

 _Slipping on a wet surface. Fractura radii susp._ , the pre-information states. Next to it, there is a name.

_Nanase, Haruka._

Just a day like any other.

 _(At the very least_ , Rin thinks with a yawn before there's a knock at the door, _She'd better be cute.)_

 

*

 

The patient is not a girl.

In fact, for the first five minutes Rin is not even sure it's human.

Before him, a young man sits in the office, staring Rin down with eyes unlike anything he has seen before. Even the suspicious old ladies never treated Rin with such open contempt; as the patient glares at Rin from behind a mop of wet, dark hair, for a moment Rin could swear there's some kind of yokai in the room.

(That, or a particularly angry cat.)

Rin blinks once, then twice, then glances back at his papers.

No, it definitely says the appointment was scheduled at 9 am this morning, and it's quarter past 11 now. Still, the man is practically dripping with water, soaking the chair through.

Now, it _is_ possible that he has simply encountered a spontaneous rainstorm on his way to the clinic – a rainstorm which, from the looks of it, seems to have eluded the rest of Iwatobi on this Summer's day.

That, or the patient went swimming after his injury.

"Well," Rin says, and that single word aptly describes his entire state of mind.

Trying to recompose himself, Rin leans forward for a quick clinical examination. It's a completely standard procedure, but the man leans back, away from his reach.

Rin leans in again.

The same thing happens, two, three, four more times.

"You know, I'm going to need to check that wrist of yours to gain a rough idea of the scale of the injury, and whether or not it requires x-ray. This usually necessitates having to actually touch your arm."

Silence.

Rin resists the urge to groan out loud; the papers say this weirdo –Nanase, wasn't it?– is a year his senior, but Rin could swear he passes for a five-year-old instead. As if dealing with one, Rin waits around for a response and finally tugs at his arm.

There is barely any pressure to the palpation, yet Nanase spontaneously lets out a violent start. Once Rin lightly grazes over the swollen area of his forearm, it elicits a stifled whimper. "Yeah, that... doesn't sound too good. Can you flex or extend your wrist?"

Nanase shakes his head.

"Hurts too much?"

Nanase nods.

"Alright, I think x-ray is definitely in order," Rin sighs and reaches over to his documents, "We don't have the equipment to do a proper render here, but I am going to refer you to the hospital in the nearest big city. It's impossible to tell the alignment and severity of the fracture at this point, but I am willing to guess conservative treatment will be enough."

Nanase remains still, and glances away. There's a strangely expectant silence until he opens his mouth for the first time during his visit.

"Will I be able to swim again soon?"

Rin frowns.

"That's..." he begins, feeling hesitant all of a sudden; Nanase's voice is far softer than he anticipated, and something tells Rin a lot is riding on this answer. "...It depends on the fracture, but I suppose you would have to wear a cast for at least a few weeks. During that time you naturally can't swim at all."

Like a robot, Nanase cranes his head and stares directly at Rin.

Then he gets up.

It's to Rin's credit that he is on his feet before Nanase makes it out of the room; there's a bit too much vigor in the way Rin pulls at Nanase's remaining healthy arm, yet something tells him the moment calls for hasty reflexes. "Hey, where the hell do you think you're going?!"

"If I won't be able to swim, I don't want a cast," Nanase says, expression so dead-pan Rin wonders if he's being pranked. "So I'm leaving."

"No you're not," Rin blurts out before he can properly assess the courtesy levels of his speech; he is too stunned by Nanase's abrupt frankness to even remember how to behave like a doctor, but something tells him it's the least of his concerns. "Are you crazy?! Your wrist might be broken."

"I don't care," Nanase insists, and Rin suddenly finds it very hard to remember if it is against the Hippocratic oath to punch your patients in the face.

What eventually saves him from having to find out is a knock on the door: someone has come to pick Nanase up. While Rin recounts the process of his treatment to a tall, young man with brown hair and kind eyes, Nanase continues to glare at him with resigned fire.

To Rin, it feels a little like victory.

He eventually deems it safer to just hand out all necessary information to this friend of Nanase's; the man does not resemble Nanase enough to strike Rin as a relative, but seems as intent on following Rin's instructions as Nanase is hell-bent on ignoring them, so Rin has little need to pry.

"I'll bring him back for the control check-up as soon as we get the scan done," this Kind Eyes says as they leave; the smile on his face is emphatic and apologetic all at once, and it sort makes Rin want to pry anyway.

 

*

 

_On Wednesday, the patients of the day include: a middle-aged man with heartburn, three babies with otitis, a girl who hurt her elbow falling off a trampoline._

"Is this normal? It's not normal, is it?"

Rin's brow twitches ominously, but he keeps a poker face with discipline like iron.

 _It_ is the mobile phone in the hand of a middle-aged woman; more specifically, the image displayed on the screen. "Taro-chan has been pooping like this for the past week. Is he lacking in vitamins? Or fiber?"

Rin's eyes trail from the phone to the wall, like a desperate plea for some merciful god to strike him dead. Instead, he catches the clock, and something hopeful elates within him.

"I'm–– I'm really sorry, Mrs. Kanda, but there's a patient coming in for fracture control soon," he says in sudden relief, and reaches out of his chair. Pulling the door open, Rin's voice booms into the hallway:

"Nagisa! I've got another patient coming up in ten minutes. Can anyone cover for me?"

"I guess Kato-sensei and Rei-chan are both free~" comes the bouncy response, vowels long and dawdling as though trying to piss Rin off on purpose; he can literally imagine Nagisa at the reception, feet slung over the desk, headphones around his neck, reading comics – as opposed to any of the things he's actually paid to do.

If Nagisa wasn't such a quick transcriber –not to mention Ryuugazaki's friend from high school– Rin probably would have already drowned him in the sea. Right now, though, Rin could not humanly love Nagisa more.

"Good. Tell... Ryuugazaki to take this one." Okay, it's a little juvenile, but Rin's not exempt from laughing under his breath as he imagines the lady lambasting Ryuugazaki with the contents of her son's digestion. It's not his fault that small joys in life are hard to come by.

It's just his luck that this brief pang of mirth does not last long; in ten minutes of time the office door opens, and Rin finds Nanase staring him down with barely contained fury.

He says barely contained, because if it weren't for the man accompanying Nanase –the same Kind Eyes who picked him up at the clinic a couple of days ago–, Rin might be diagnosing himself with blunt head trauma from the impeccably crafted cast on Nanase's wrist.

 _This is your fault_ , Nanase's glare screams, and Rin's not quite sure how he can tell but he does.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I introduced myself before," Kind Eyes luckily says before any blood is shed, and Rin learns that his name is Tachibana Makoto, he's a friend of Nanase's, and looking after Nanase is a pain in the ass. (Alright, so he doesn't say the last one out loud, but Rin can see it in the worn-out smile he extends to Rin, as if from here on out the two of them are in this together.)

It's still a blessing in disguise, either way. From where Rin is standing, Makoto's –is that weird? Even if they've just met, he feels like a Makoto, far more than he feels like a Tachibana– presence injects just the right amount of balance into the visit to make it bearable. It doesn't matter that Nanase is literally paying zero attention to Rin's questions – Makoto simply answers them on his behalf.

 _Yes, a distal metaphysis fracture, less than 0.5 mm of dislocation, three to four weeks of conservative treatment, here are the x-ray images_. Rin nods, nods, and nods again, and although he is hardly a radiologist, a keen eye can tell Nanase's fracture has called for very little repositioning.

Really, that idiot ought to feel grateful.

Naturally, Nanase looks everything but. When Rin asks if they've had any trouble with the cast, Makoto's face twists with delicate disdain; it's clear he's looking for the right words, and eventually settles for "it has come with its own challenges."

Rin can't help the sympathy that seeps into his gaze.

God, imagine being friends with someone like Nanase – that's one fate he wouldn't wish on anyone.

It's even more bizarre this fate is, nonetheless, latched on the shoulders of someone like Tachibana Makoto; when Rin schedules the next control check up in a week's time, Makoto nods, and Rin wonders in passing if he's the kind of guy who will remember the time and date without having to write it down.

It's ironic, because Rin is willing to bet great money that it would take virtually being held at gunpoint for Nanase to recall at all.

Once they're gone, a soft patter of footsteps traverses the hall before Nagisa sticks his head through the doorway, a flurry of blond waves and impish, curious smiles.

"Hey, hey. Was that who I think it was?"

Rin shrugs. Nothing Nagisa is that interested in ever bodes well for him. "Yeah, the arch bishop of Djibouti in all his holiness. Do I want to find out why?"

"I guess you wouldn't know," Nagisa brushes off his jibe with a grin, "I used to–– I was in the same swimming club with that guy. Back in middle school, you know, before it–– well, whatever, anyway, he was this prodigy but also, like a–– a total weirdo? I mean in a good way, but still."

Nagisa leans his head against the doorframe and sighs, sounding wistful in a way Rin has rarely witnessed. "I guess he hasn't changed."

"I think he hates me," Rin replies, twirling a pen absent-mindedly in his fingers as he re-imagines Nanase's glare of contempt. It sounds–– funny, in his ears, kind of, and Rin lets out a little laugh.

Glancing over, though, he can tell in an instant that Nagisa doesn't get the joke.

"Of course he does," Nagisa quips with a shrug, and the way he says it makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world.

"You made him unable to swim."

 

*

 

_On Thursday, the patients of the day include: a young boy bitten by his dog, two potential cases of urine infection, and an old woman who has decided to stop taking half her medication because it made her feel ill._

The embarrassment radiating off Makoto is so palpable it's almost unreal.

Looking at his apologetic face, Rin wants to tell him it's okay. Wants to grab him by the shoulders, sit him down, and reassuringly whisper, _Look, everything's going to be fine, it's nothing we can't deal with, sometimes this kind of stuff happens but it's going to be alright_.

Then Rin turns his gaze back to Nanase, and feels like strangling someone.

"It's not ruined, is it?" Makoto breathes out, feeble hope shadowed by the dread of Rin's response as he glances up and down Nanase's arm. "The plaster cast, I mean. Does he need to get it renewed?"

Rin doesn't answer straight away.

He stares at Nanase, who in turn stares out of the window like none of this concerns him in the first place.

"Could you step outside for a moment?" Rin politely asks Makoto, who obliges; the second he exits the office, Rin slowly turns to Nanase, and mentally counts to ten.

It doesn't help.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Nanase's eyes dart back at him in an instant, though with little regard at the outburst. No, it's clear Rin's behaviour doesn't take him by surprise – which, in many ways, is exactly what Rin was betting on since the moment Nanase showed up with water damage all over his brand new cast.

Acknowledging the rhetorical nature of his own question, Rin yanks Nanase closer. With a set of heavy scissors, he begins cutting through the soaked plaster, the material easily tearing away at brute force. "Are you literally hoping for skin ulcers?! Because I could just cut your arm open right now if you're that desperate for an infection."

Rin could swear something twitches on Nanase's brow.

"Here's what we'll do," Rin goes on, ignoring how secretly triumphant he feels at watching sense drilling through to Nanase's thick skull, " I'm going to do another referral. And you're going to go get yourself another cast."

Leaning over, he holds Nanase firmly fixed in place, and adds before he can stop himself: "And so god help me, if I find out you've fucked up the new one, I am going to make sure you pee through a catheter for the rest of your life."

This time, there's _definitely_ a twitch.

"...Is that a threat?"

Having almost forgotten what Nanase's voice sounds like, the airiness briefly throws Rin out of the loop. Because Nanase has this–– thing, about how calmly he's able to hold Rin's gaze, but an insolent, cold fire still lingers away at the tip of each word.

"I'd rather use the word _prognosis_ ," Rin says, and for a moment he feels... something, shifting in the disdain of Nanase's eyes; it's arrogant, and audacious, but curiously also acknowledges Rin's own strength of will.

Were this any other person in the world, Rin might even mistake that combination for––

 _No_ , Rin flinches at the sheer ridiculousness of that idea, and promptly turns away; "You can come in now," he calls out, suddenly feeling the abrupt need to clear his throat, and Makoto re-enters the room.

Nanase remains quiet for the rest of the visit, and once they leave, Rin feels strangely relieved and disappointed all at once.

"I heard from Nagisa-kun that this new patient seems like a keeper," Ryuugazaki comments in passing, as Rin dawdles in the doorway a moment too long.

"More like a complete loser," Rin snorts, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to laugh it all off.

"Sounds a lot like someone I know," Ryuugazaki mutters under his breath, but vanishes into his own office before Rin has chance to fire his ass.

 

*

 

_On Sunday, the patients of the day include: two cases of tonsillitis, a young man overly concerned about his nettle-rash, and a lady with benign paroxysmal positional vertigo._

It rains on the way home.

Rin stops by at a convenience store, grabbing some expiration date nigirizushi as he also grabs an umbrella from the stand. It's old and large, and makes Rin feel like a kid walking down the desolate road towards his late grandmother's house.

A message has been blinking on his phone all day. _Call me!! Stupid!!_ the letters wail, and Rin can almost hear Gou's voice in his head. He hasn't been ignoring her messages on purpose, least of all because he dreads having to listen to Gou talk about her exciting life in Kyoto; no, Rin is merely busy with work, and his favourite game show is on tonight.

(Alright, so he can't sustain that thought without wanting to punch himself in the face, but––)

He turns a corner by the drink vending machine, and spots someone standing under the canopy of a tree.

Frowning, the name leaves Rin as though on instinct. "Nanase?"

Nanase turns his head to the sound of Rin's voice. For a split second he appears surprised as opposed to angry; in that moment he looks a lot younger than Rin remembered. In a heartbeat that flash is gone, though, and Nanase's jaw tightens as familiar irritation clouds his face.

Rin wants to sigh, but walks up to him anyway.

"What are you doing here?"

Nanase looks at him, then the vending machine, then back at Rin.

_Touché._

"Alright, that was––" Rin backpedals, feeling oddly flustered at Nanase's lack of response. He's felt the weight of that indignant stare countless of times, now, but always in the confines of his office; here, they're just two half-strangers on the street. "––A stupid question, but you were looking a little lost."

"I'm not," Nanase replies, much to Rin's surprise. "I'm stuck."

He softly waves his cast in Rin's face. "It's raining. I'm supposed to stay clear of water."

Nanase pauses, then adds, " _Doctor's orders_."

There's a bizarre kind of challenge to Nanase's tone; his voice is not directly venomous, but rather sounds like he's testing how much he can get away with before Rin's composure cracks. Clearly, he is just as aware that outside the clinic, Rin is not his superior – hell, Rin would be amazed to find Nanase gave a damn about authority in the first place.

Rin's grip on the handle of the umbrella tightens.

"Do you live close by?"

When Nanase nods, Rin reaches out an arm and yanks him by the shoulder. Nanase stumbles forward, but Rin catches him before he slips and breaks his other wrist.

"I'll walk you home, then. Come on."

Rin's not entirely sure if he's only using this spurt of conviction to avoid having to dwell on why Nanase's subtle jabs are capable of getting under his skin. Nanase is hardly the first difficult patient Rin's had, and he'll hardly be the last; still, something about the way Nanase flicks his head to the side and _harrumphs_ in everything other than actual sound, well, Rin would be lying if he said it's not quite enough to ignite a funny kind of spark within his chest.

It feels... reminiscent, and welcome, in a way Rin cannot quite name.

The tension hangs between them like an unspoken agreement, all the way up a flight of worn-down stairs. The house they come to a halt at is equally old, and when Nanase slips out from underneath Rin's umbrella, something about him transforms the moment he walks through the door.

The sharp angles of Nanase's expression wash out in the glow of the late afternoon, the ice in his eyes mellows out into an undulating ocean blue, and for the first time Rin feels like he _sees_ Nanase; the delicate arc of his shoulders, the grace of his stride, the wariness that sets around his mouth – all of it blends into the silent corners of that house until all that's left is a distinct air of fatigue, and Rin wishes he could look away but he can't.

It's almost as though catching a glimpse of a life that might not be meant for his eyes at all.

Standing on the doorstep, he can practically feel the air inside hanging heavy with a time long gone. Suddenly, Rin is all too aware that should he cross over that threshold, he would also cross over to Nanase's reality, and he doesn't know why the thought of that seems so... overwhelming, in a way.

(After all, it feels reminiscent, too – but for all the same reasons Rin is avoiding having to call Gou back.)

"I guess I'll see you on Wednesday," Rin says, and it comes off sounding like an apology.

He can feel Nanase's stare on his back when he leaves.

 

*

 

_On Wednesday, the patients of the day include: a lady with a particularly nasty erysipelas on her arm, a girl who ran her bike into a pole at the level crossing, and an old man whose machine has been picking up strange heart rate readings all week._

Nanase comes to the clinic alone.

Rin doesn't ask about it, because one, it's really none of his business, and two, Nanase seems so lost in thought that he might as well be on another planet. And three, it's really none of Rin's business, did he already point that out? Because he should.

Rin tries to battle the nagging feeling in his gut when Nanase hands over the most recent x-ray images with complete obedience. According to the statement, his radius is healing along without complications, which means Nanase must have finally taken Rin's threats to heart. It's an anti-climatic victory at best, though, because the nagging gut feeling turns into persistent suspicion once Rin shares the prospect of removing the cast in two weeks, and Nanase hardly bats an eye.

Makoto shows up three minutes before the end of the visit.

He's out of breath and mildly distraught, and Rin feels like the puzzle clicks into place.

"I'm sorry I ran late and couldn't pick you up," Makoto wheezes, palms against his knees like something out of an infomercial, "Yui was called into work on last minute notice, and she needed someone to look after the baby."

Nanase says nothing. He doesn't appear upset, but Rin definitely cannot ignore the chill in the air as he brushes past them both.

Inwardly, Rin grimaces.

_That guy is un-fucking-believable._

Rin grimaces even more once Makoto looks back with innocent surprise, and Rin contemplates biting off his own tongue when he realizes having spoken aloud. (Isn't that something that's supposed to only ever happen in fiction? Say, a really lousy harlequin novel?)

"Shi–– Sorry, that–– that was completely inappropriate of me," he struggles to quickly address the mistake, but Makoto merely shakes his head at Rin's panic.

"No, it's... it's fine," Makoto says, letting out a small, mirthless chuckle, "I'm sure it must seem strange for me to be so involved, especially what with..." He gestures lightly where words fail to convey his meaning, and Rin catches the light glinting off Makoto's wedding band.

"...Either way, he's still my best friend, and someone's got to look out for him. I'm... sure you understand."

Rin doesn't understand.

"Of course," he says anyway, and tries to avoid Makoto's eyes.

As if sensing this, Makoto deliberately turns to face him with a smile. It's filled with something undeniably grateful, and immediately sets off a thousand alarms in Rin's head.

"I'm thankful for everything you've done for him, either way."

The self-belittlement comes to Rin almost on reflex, startled and flustered like a shield. "I haven't done anything."

"You've done enough," Makoto insists, though, and this time his smile is as encouraging as it is grateful; glancing down, then back up at Rin, he looks strangely... relieved.

"You've told him, 'no'."

 

*

 

_On Friday, the patients of the day include: a girl who fell off a tree after having too much to drink. A baby who fell off his crib. An old man who fell out of bed. A lady who fell down a flight of stairs._

"Rin-san, I'm not interested."

"Come on! It's Friday!"

"And tomorrow it will be Saturday. And we will still have work, because doctors don't get days off."

"I bet you'd go if Nagisa asked you."

"That's–– Nagisa-kun and I are friends. Whereas I distinctly remember you telling me the two of us, are not."

"When did I ever say that?!"

"The last time you asked me to go out drinking with you on a Friday night, and I said yes."

"...I don't remember this."

"That hardly surprises me, given the state you were in."

"Hey, if I was that hammered, I must have loved the entire izakaya. There's no way I'd have told you we're not friends, Ryuugazaki."

"...For one, the fact that you call me Ryuugazaki? Should probably tip you off. But I suppose it's my memory that's faulty, and you did not in fact wail _what the shit am I doing, we're not even friends_ in my face, somewhere between getting upset at how 'boring' my reason for getting into medicine is, and passing out into a pickle jar."

"...Well, in my defense, your reason was _really_ boring."

"So you do remem–– Gah, Rin-san, this conversation is pointless. I'm well aware that the only reason you're asking me to accompany you out on the town is because it's been six months and you still don't know a single other person in Iwatobi, and you're scared that staying in on a Friday night three weeks in a row might force you to confront your miserable existence."

"H, hey! That's not–– I... I know Nagisa!!"

"...Would you like to go out with Nagisa-kun, then? Because I can arrange that."

"Er... what happens if I say yes?"

"Probably a lot of memories you _wish_ you'd blacked out on."

"Is your entire life a complete hyperbole?"

"No, but I'm also not completely pulling your leg, if that's what you think. He's definitely a good person, but trying to reel back his energy can prove... troublesome. He's... been like that since high school; sometimes I wonder if I should have started some stupid chess club with him just to teach Nagisa-kun how to focus and utilize his true talents."

"How noble. Too bad you were too busy... busy... doing whatever the hell it is that you did in high school instead."

" _Track_. It's called track, Rin-san, and I'll have you know I won awards––"

"You're such a nerd, Ryuugazaki––"

"––But it was only a club. I never saw myself making a career out of sports, which is why I chose medicine instead."

"Amazing."

"What is?"

"That explanation was, if possible, even more boring the second time around."

"...Rin-san, this is why we're not friends."

 

*

 

_On Sunday, the patients of the day include: a teenage boy with gastroenteritis, an old man disorientated with pyelonephritis, and a small girl who swallowed a piece of styrofoam._

There's nobody at the drink vending machine on the way home.

Not today, not yesterday, not tomorrow.

Rin doesn't make a conscious note of this.

That would be stupid, and it's none of his business.

 

*

 

_On Tuesday, the patients of the day include: a man who got a spark caught in his eye after welding without safety equipment, a lady who hit her head while sleep-walking and requires four 3-0 stitches, a boy who injured his ankle once a friend stomped on it._

"Here's yesterday's dictations, done and transcribed!" Nagisa sounds oddly proud of himself, brandishing a sheet of freshly printed papers in his hand.

"Great," Rin replies, "Now file them away somewhere I'll never have to see them again."

Nagisa counters him with a makeshift pout. "After all the hard work I went through to get these done in a timely manner? RinRin, you're the worst."

"What I am, is your _boss_ ," Rin mutters, but Nagisa is already lost in a world of his own; leafing through the transcriptions, he picks out one and gestures with the other hand like a character in a play.

"Some of these are a thing of beauty, you know," Nagisa enunciates ceremoniously, and begins to recite: " _Nitori Aiichirou. Presenting complaint: Bitten by a turtle. Anamnesis: A 25-year-old male, no long term diseases, no allergies. A cut approximately the size of 1.5 cm stretches across the patient's lower lip––_ "

"Nagisa, that's confidential!" Rin snaps and Nagisa scuttles along, laughing to himself.

Afterwards, Rin stretches out his arms and pulls out the most recent images of Nanase's x-ray control. He won't be coming in for a routine check-up in person this week; according to Makoto, Nanase is visiting his parents in Tokyo.

Rin knows he ought to feel relieved.

Still, a strange lethargic air guides his hand as Rin pulls out the x-ray. He eyes over the line of the radius, lost in thought; in a week from now Nanase's arm should be fully healed, and he can go back to causing aquatic chaos or whatever the hell he did with his life before Rin brought his universe to a stand-still.

Rin cannot help wondering if Nanase would be happy to hear that.

He doesn't know why he cares.

He doesn't––

_Wait a fucking second_

The light of the sun filters through the tree outside his window, and when it hits the x-ray, the sight makes Rin frown. The thought that crosses his mind is absolutely ridiculous, but he has to make sure; quickly scrambling for last week's images, Rin layers the two atop one another.

"What the _fuck_ ," he swears aloud, and hollers out Ryuugazaki's name so loud the foundations of the clinic must tremble.

Ryuugazaki confirms his fears. Kato-sensei might, too, if he wouldn't just mistake the x-ray for a map of the Bahamas. The radiologist statement is the final nail in the coffin: _1 millimeter of additional dislocation on the distal end of the fracture_ , where only a week ago there was barely any left.

Which means – somewhere between last week's control check and Monday morning, something must have happened.

With Nanase.

Rin's blood suddenly grows cold.

It almost gives him a stroke when the phone in his office abruptly rings; something in Rin's stomach leaps with both hopefulness and dread as soon as he recognizes Makoto's voice.

"Is this a bad time? I can call again later, if––"

"No, I––" Rin breathes into the receiver, then forces himself to calm down. He hasn't spent years practicing his professional voice for nothing; this is the moment all those times acting in front of a mirror will pay off, to keep his tone from giving him away.

"I was just about to call you, actually. I received Nanase's x-rays and he–– he's not... hurt, is he?"

A pause.

God, Rin hates pauses.

"Haru's fine," Makoto finally replies, sounding awfully confused, "I just spoke to him this morning. Why?"

Rin grips his desk, floored by a weird kind of relief.

"There's some recent dislocation on his fracture," he goes on to explain, coughing to regain his composure, "I thought that–– I was wondering if it might have resulted from another injury. Or if he's done something to excessively strain his arm. Because I'm afraid it's going to set his recovery back by at least another week."

There's another silence at the end of the line.

When Makoto speaks anew, his tone comes out a funny mix of curious and apologetic – not to mention a lot less surprised than Rin anticipated.

"I see," Makoto breathes out, like he's running a hundred things through his head at once. " Well, I suppose this is why I..."

Another pause. "Ah, I'm sorry, Matsuoka-san. As much as you've done for us already, there's... something I need to ask of you."

Makoto then states his business, and Rin listens.

Rin sits there, holding the receiver, until Makoto calls out his name again.

"...Matsuoka-san? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm––" Rin chokes out, but it's all he can think of in response; this phone call has suddenly switched course, swerved off the lane and hit a tree somewhere on the other side of the Pacific, judging by how overwhelmed he feels.

 _Impossible_.

_You've–– you've got the wrong person._

_He doesn't even–– like me, no, I'm pretty sure in his weird little word I'm probably villain number one._

Makoto's laughter trickles over the line, and Rin realizes something about Makoto's presence has made him profess his thoughts out loud again.

"It's hard to explain," Makoto replies, voice so infuriatingly reassuring that Rin wants to believe him, if just on principle, "But... I _know_ Haru. And I know that even if he doesn't specifically _like_ you," Rin winces, because he wasn't actually expecting Makoto to _agree_ , "He's... intrigued? By you. And in many ways that's more or less the same thing. For him, anyway."

Makoto sighs before he goes on, and Rin can almost feel the receiver vibrate. "Just–– one afternoon. Alright? I honestly feel like it would do him good to spend time with people. Friends, other than me. And I do understand you must be a busy person, with work and tons of people all vying for your time, but..."

Ryuugazaki picks that exact moment to walk past Rin's office; whether it's on purpose or not, he shoots Rin a long stare, and Rin momentarily loses track of Makoto's voice.

He mentally tunes back in to catch the very last sentence.

"...would mean a lot to me, and I promise to make it up to you somehow later, if that's what it takes."

"No," Rin hears himself breathing out, and cannot tear his gaze from the empty hallway.

"No?" Makoto repeats, slightly confused.

"I mean, no, you don't have to make it up to me," Rin pushes through his daze, then takes a long, deep breath.

"I'll... I'll take Nanase out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between the chapters - I got swept away with Ch 11 of Wind Waves and it took me ages to finish editing this one. Hopefully it won't take as long to finalize the final chapter, though.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed this silliness; if you hadn't already figured it out, most of the case mentions in the story are based on real life.

 

_On Saturday, the patients of the day include: a man who has suffered from constipation all week, a pregnant woman with extreme nausea, a young boy whose stomach ache comes and goes in waves._

Rin doesn't know this, though, because he's not at the clinic.

He's out on the town spending the day with Nanase Haruka.

The outing begins at the train station, exactly as Rin envisions it: with a mix of guardedness and doubt on Nanase's face. The words _Why are you even here_ hang in the suspicious look Nanase stabs right into Rin's forehead, and Rin knows he wouldn't be able to provide an answer even if he tried.

In the past seven hours and fourty-three minutes, he has narrowed it down to three alternatives:

One, _You know what, I haven't got a fucking clue._

Two, _Because this is a favour to Makoto, and you'd do best not to forget._

Or three, _Because I must be having some sort of weird existential crisis about the fact that I don't know what it's like to have such a devoted friend, and kinda felt like exploring my underlying resentment at how you clearly don't know how to appreciate one._

(Consider also, surprise alternative number four: _Because you're weirdly hot and I have absolutely no idea what to do with this information, so I'll pretend like it's not actually at the forefront of my mind while mulling over points one, two, and three._ )

"Uh," Rin says.

Nanase shrugs and picks up the pace, and Rin realizes it's as close to direct acceptance as he's going to get.

Such displays of direct disinterest probably ought to aggravate Rin (well, they still kind of do), but today is different in more ways than one. Instead of forcing Rin to haphazardly stumble his way into every single snare, Makoto has been gracious enough to provide priceless information on how to navigate the literal darkness that is Nanase Haruka's extraordinarily weird ass life.

The strangest thing might be that there is and is not a whole lot to say, all at once.

_Ever since we were kids, all he ever wanted to do was swim. He's amazingly talented, and I guess his parents thought it was enough – that one day he'd make a career out of it. And maybe he might have, had he not always been completely uninterested in competitive swimming, especially after our old swimming club closed down._

"Mak–– Tachibana-san told me you like to go to this one café, with the big windows and fish tanks. I figured you might want to go there, catch a late lunch or something."

"...Sure."

"You like looking at colourful fish?"

"...I like to eat them."

"...."

_After high school, I attended university, he stayed here in Iwatobi. He would never admit it, but I think... he felt betrayed, that I left; all the more so after I came back with Yui-chan, and got married. She's always been nothing but understanding about our friendship, but things change when you have children; I can tell she's unhappy with me spending so much time taking care of Haru, because we both know I also have my own family to look after._

"...Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Given that I own the damn clinic, I could technically watch Koda Kumi videos on Niconico while feeding my patients to a tank of feral sharks. So no, I 'shouldn't' anything."

"I can tell your professionalism is only rivaled by your integrity."

"...How about this, Nanase? If I can make it past five minutes without regretting this, I'll treat you to a manjuu."

_Thing is, though, after Haru broke his wrist...? Well, this might sound crazy, but it's almost as if he's felt more... lively? Engaged? Energetic? I mean, at first I thought it was just the pent up adrenaline from not being able to swim, but he looks forward to coming back for control check-ups, and I can't help but feel as if that's largely because..._

"Just get whatever you feel like. If you're not actually hungry, that's fine too."

There's a lot of drinks on that list named after tropical fish, and Rin's not sure he trusts a single one of them.

When no response comes, he pushes down the flimsy menu and catches Nanase's unimpressed stare. "What?"

Nanase averts his eyes. "This is stupid."

Rin frowns, but not in annoyance; Nanase's expression is tense with something other than juvenile attitude, and if Rin didn't know any better, he might almost think it's a mask of genuine frustration.

"The hell are you talking about?"

Nanase glances back. Struggling to locate the source of his own discomfort, the frustration seems to grow. "You don't really want to be here. Makoto asked you to, and you said yes. I understand that. But this isn't what you would have chosen."

The ambiguity of Nanase's voice is like a red flag, and Rin finds himself countering on instinct.

"I wouldn't have chosen a lot of things in life," he says. "Property tax. Inspecting people's feet. The last bits of corn getting stuck on the bottom of the soup can. But I get by."

Again, Nanase just–– stares, as if he's trying really hard to telepathically transmit his thoughts into Rin's head; and maybe that works with someone like Makoto, but it doesn't work with Rin, and it's really starting to piss him off.

"What's your problem, anyway?" he snaps; it comes out harsher than Rin intends it to, but he hates feeling so–– blindsided. "Look, we're both here 'cause for some incomprehensible reason, your best friend thinks we might get along. Out of respect for him, I'm trying to do my part here, alright? But I guess you wouldn't know what that's like, since it's clearly more important to you to cling onto that immature attitude like some sort of dysfunctional safety blanket."

Something hot flashes in Nanase's glare, and his entire body tenses up.

Rin feels a lot like having stepped into a landmine.

 _Shit_.

"That's not true," Nanase says, silently, and refuses to meet Rin's eye.

But there's a trace of helplessness to his expression, like a pained regret Rin easily could have missed before; and somehow Rin just knows, _knows_ , that _this_ is the person he witnessed in the listless light of Nanase's house, the one beneath the childish hostility and stubborn pride, and...

(...and how, exactly, is that hostility and pride any different from Rin's?)

He takes a deep breath.

Exhales.

Starts over.

Nanase flinches when a rainbow-colored drinking straw hits him on the nose.

"Hi," Rin says, "My name's Matsuoka Rin. I know, it's a girl's name, but I'm a boy. I have one younger sister who lives in Kyoto. I haven't called in ages though, because I'm way too busy trying to fake my way through being a doctor in a town in the middle of nowhere, and it's slowly but surely driving me mental."

He pauses, then hazards a wry smile. "Mostly because of this one guy who showed up a couple of weeks back with a broken wrist, and thinks I'm set out to ruin his life."

A perplexed look dawns on Nanase's face, and Rin lets out a little laugh. "That was my version in a nutshell. So now you gotta tell me yours."

For a moment, Nanase clearly hesitates.

Then he glances down at the straw that landed on the table, and Rin could swear he detects a hint of a... smile?

"...I'm Nanase Haruka," Nanase finally says. "...A few weeks back I broke my wrist, so I haven't been able to swim. This... is very troublesome for me."

He pauses, too, before he adds: "Mainly because of this one doctor, who's set out to ruin my life."

Nanase's expression remains calm as he speaks, but Rin can _tell_ when a tiny, playful smile enters his voice.

 _Shit_ , Rin thinks again, as it does something altogether funny to his heart.

 

*

 

Later, they walk along the oceanside, and Nanase tells him how he broke his wrist.

It's quite simple, really. All he was doing was breaking and entering into the indoor pools of a nearby sports academy, and slipped while trying to avoid getting caught by the security.

It could have happened to anyone.

 _But of course_ , Rin says and Nanase nods and repeats, _But of course_ , and Rin is ninety five point two percent certain that Nanase Haruka might actually possess a sense of humour after all.

Rin wants to ask about the dislocation, too, but Nanase does not bring it up. The answer is probably nothing short of _I tried to lug a life-sized fiberglass dolphin over the fence_ , but it's almost like Nanase skirts around the subject on purpose, and Rin feels reluctant to push his luck.

Why?

He's not sure, really.

Something about the way Nanase suddenly addresses him without an air of defensive vitriol makes Rin not want to _ruin_ it; the afternoon, the unexpected amity, the way Nanase chokes back an instinctive laugh when Rin tells him about the time he pulled a live moth out of someone's ear.

It's a tentative little dance, but not one they do out of survival anymore; with each joke and half-hearted jab, it feels like Rin is standing on solid ground as opposed to a ledge.

He should know better, though.

He should know that the second he closes his eyes, Nanase can still make him plummet to his fall.

"...You don't really talk about yourself."

On the side of the pavement, Rin's feet grind to a halt.

Nanase is not looking at him; instead, he observes the horizon, profile disguising the expression on his face. "You talk about work. What happens at work. How you feel about work. But you haven't really talked about yourself."

Rin opens his mouth, then closes it.

Nanase's words have unashamedly treaded onto a territory that Rin decidedly has yet to grant him access to; worse yet, they linger in the air like an unspoken invitation Rin could decline at will, but in doing so he would know that Nanase knows.

Hell, the guy is a lot sharper than he lets on.

"As if you ever do," is what Rin's startled brain comes up with, and it's juvenile and defensive but it's all he can think up on instinct, to side-step the question Nanase has not asked outright.

"I know," Nanase says. "That's how I can tell."

The flatness of his statement sinks something inside Rin's chest.

And Rin knows;

that he has roughly thirty seconds to downplay the sudden seriousness of the moment; thirty seconds before familiar panic begins to gain momentum inside the one part of Rin that Nanase isn't supposed to see through.

"What the hell does my personal life matter? Aren't you supposed to, I dunno, hate me?"

It's a desperate, terrible joke, but instead of glaring it away, Nanase bites down on his lip in thought; like some kind of messed up sorcery, there are times when he can brush off all of Rin's feigned social cues, yet somehow selectively fail to pick up on others.

Rin doesn't get him, at all.

"I never said I hated you," Nanase finally breathes out, and there is something very final about his voice.

"I only said you're ruining my life."

Rin blinks.

"Okay then," he replies.

It's clearly not the right response.

Because the shadow on Nanase's face shifts with abrupt uncertainty, clouding over with an air of guardedness, and Rin realizes –with a five second delay, mirthless as it is enlightening– that this has been Nanase's way of trying to talk about himself, an actual attempt at expressing genuine emotion, and––

"I don't regret it."

Nanase glances up, and for a second Rin could swear it comes with an unexpected start.

"I don't regret it," Rin repeats, not entirely sure where he's going with any of this, before the words take form and flutter away from his grasp. "This. That. Trying to–– ruin it. Your life."

As chaotic as the stream-of-thought seems to Rin in his own head, part of it must register with Nanase, because a lightness enters his voice when he echoes:

"You don't regret this."

(Is it a question, though?)

"No," Rin answers anyway.

Nanase nods, eyes calm like the Autumn sea; and when he speaks anew, the softness in his words nearly punches the wind out of Rin's lungs.

"Then I guess you owe me a manjuu."

 

*

 

_On Wednesday, the patients of the day include: approximately five people who have fallen off their bikes; one in a run-in with a car, one who hit a level crossing beam, one who took an overly sharp turn, and one who crashed down a hill pretending to be his favourite character in a cartoon._

Rin has good news.

Nanase's arm has almost fully healed.

The recent x-ray images reveal that most of the dislocation has re-aligned; his wrist is painless, the vascular status of his hand fine, the sensors in his fingers fully functional.

Rin must be a far better doctor than he ever imagined, to be able to know all this without ever so much as inspecting Nanase's wrist.

It's not his fault, though; as soon as Nanase shows up for his second-to-last control check (alone), his eyes trail after Rin with a curious silence, and it rings loud enough in his ears to drown out all of Rin's thoughts.

It's the same stare Rin has not been able to forget since the moment they parted ways at the vending machine at 1948 hours on Saturday evening. The same look Nanase shot him down with when Rin scratched the back of his head, said _I guess I'll see you on Wednesday_ , and it still came out sounding like an apology.

Because in twenty-six years, nobody has ever looked at him like that,

(looked at him like they _know_ )

and Rin is not sure why it fills his bones with terror as much as it makes his heart light with unnamed relief, but the weight of that possibility alone is enough to physically suspend him from reaching out and touching Nanase's hand.

But it's fine.

In a week's time, all of this will be but a passing anecdote in a long string of transcriptions, a case file lost among a folder he'll never open again; in a week's time, Nanase will be coming in for his final fracture control, and after that, well, the two of them will probably never see each other again.

(Because Nanase will never ask, and Rin will never ask, and he will never admit to himself that he wants Nanase to ask.)

Ask what?

"Hey, how would you like to go out sometime?"

What Rin forgets is that Nagisa always, _always_ asks.

"All four of us, I mean," Nagisa goes on, undaunted by the surprise on Nanase's face, "I bet it'd be super fun to, I dunno, go drinking together or something. Hey, how about this Friday? I'm gonna put you down for Friday, okay? Great, I'll see you there!"

Revision: Rin has good news _and_ bad news.

The good news is that Nanase's arm has almost fully healed.

(The bad news is that something inside Rin is slowly but surely beginning to come apart.)

 

*

 

_On Friday, the patients of the day include..._

"I swear to god, if Kururugi-san won't start taking his goddamn medication, I'm going to his house and feeding him every single unnecessary ECG tape we've ever taken."

"You think Kururugi-san is bad? Do you _want_ to know what precious little Ayame-chan stuck up her nose today? Because in most parts of this country you usually use those things for currency."

"Ha! That can't be worse than the kid who shoved a cough drop up his right nostril. Well, I guess he felt very fresh after it melted before we could pull it out."

"Oh, if you want to compare noses, how about the lady today who kept blowing hers every time I managed to congeal her veins? Every. Single. Time."

"I would have gladly traded your nose-bleed with my blood clot, though. The geezer started wailing the second I even grazed his calves, the other one must have been like three centimeters larger than the other!"

"...Is it like this all the time?"

Nagisa appears unperturbed by Nanase's question; pushing a glass of umeshu further down the table until it _clinks_ with one of Ryuugazaki's, he stretches out like a feline.

"Uh huh," Nagisa quips, letting his grin drag on, "Better get used to it, Haru-chan!"

Rin not-so-subtly kicks Nagisa under the table, but he does so for a number of Good and Valid reasons: not only is Nagisa far too familiar with Nanase for someone who once-maybe-sort-of went to the same swimming school in the days of yore, but Rin has also told him roughly five times by now that Nanase is not here on a _date_.

"What? It's true, Rin _Rin_ ," Nagisa whines, accentuating the final vowel for Nanase's amusement, "How drunk do you need to be to snap out of work mode? I thought having Haru-chan here might mix things up a little, but it's just like being back at the clinic. Haru-chan, _do something_!"

Nanase blinks at the finger shoved in his face, and brief panic sets upon Rin as he realizes there's roughly a 75% chance Nanase will take Nagisa's words literally.

Whether Ryuugazaki senses similar danger or not, he nudges Nagisa's shoulder with a long sigh. It's almost as if he _hasn't_ gone through three glasses of shochu, the way he chooses his words with elaborate care; or perhaps that's precisely how you can tell.

"...How about we strike for a compromise?" Ryuugazaki says, and his voice is far gentler than anything he usually addresses Rin with. "Take Rin-san's emotionally stunted subject material, and combine it with Nagisa-kun's penchant for social porn... Haah, I think it's time we pull out the clichéd crowd favourite, and talk about the cases that have affected us the most."

Nagisa cheers, Rin groans, and Nanase shoots him a subtly curious look that Rin nonetheless pretends not to notice.

Ryuugazaki goes first. His is a story about a young man, one of the first patients he ever treated after graduation; a kid barely 17 years of age, whose headaches just kept growing worse and worse.

 _All the tests came out negative, so I figured it was simply a case of tension neck_ , Ryuugazaki says, with a dry smile. _I probably prescribed him some light opioids and sent him on his way. Which is to say, you can already guess where this is headed: a month later he collapsed, and neurological scans revealed a malignant medulloblastoma in his cerebellum._

"Did he die?" Nagisa asks bluntly, but Ryuugazaki shakes his head. No, the kid survived treatment, even if Ryuugazaki helped the tumor spread in his brain for another month.

He does not need to underline what Rin can already tell in his voice, though.

It's not about that, not the results of misjudgment; but the possibility of error at all.

_For a while I wasn't sure if I could do this, afterwards. Realizing that no matter how hard I try, being a doctor will never be about sanguine wisdom or the ability to heal; it's about a game of canceling out the unlikely, and sometimes you simply cannot beat the odds._

It is a story Rin is more than familiar with, but one he does not personally have to share; when the rest of the table turns its attention on him in quiet expectation, he can only swallow down something hoarse.

He doesn't want to do this.

He doesn't, but he also can't not; not after Ryuugazaki's disarming honesty, as easy or painful as it has been to share. Instinctively, he finds himself glancing at Nanase – it's a look desperate for subconscious solace, and Rin realizes this too late before yanking his eyes away.

Of course, Nanase doesn't miss this, any more than he pretends not to notice.

"Rin," he says.

...It shouldn't mean as much, but it does; shouldn't be so consoling, but it is; and maybe it's the strain of his own resistance, the haze of cheap alcohol clouding his judgment, or simply the sound of his first name on Nanase's tongue, but Rin can suddenly hear his own voice.

And so he tells them.

Tells them about the lady, the middle-aged mother of two, who used to pop in every couple of weeks to have her heart rate checked; whose only health issues included a loose joint in the knee, but who still took out time in her daily life to chat with Rin about trivial nothings: the changes in her diet, how often her children came home with cuts and scrapes, or why the cold made her bones ache at night.

The day after her regular control check, on her way to the convenience store she had a stroke.

 _There was nothing wrong with her_ , Rin says.

_There was nothing wrong with her, and she died anyway._

There was nothing wrong with dad either, he almost adds, but the words get stuck in his throat before they have the chance to disclose everything he has spent months trying to hide.

Forcefully willing the emotion down, Rin doesn't need to glance back at Nanase to know the look on his face.

It won't be one of feeble pity; _oh but it wasn't your fault! these things happen!_ , nor is it one of emphatic understanding; _oh you poor thing! that kind of thing would shake up anyone!_

Rin knows Nanase is not looking at him at all, because he's giving Rin his space;

and Rin hates it, hates it, _hates it_ , because Nanase isn't supposed to _know_ , because it's not supposed to _matter_ , because all of this is slipping right out of his control.

For the rest of the night, Nanase does not say much.

It probably does not strike anyone else as uncharacteristic, but Rin can sense he's thinking about something. Nanase's brow wrinkles in concentration, that funny little way it always does, and no amount of alcohol can make Rin pretend not to notice.

That night they part at the vending machine at 2353 hours.

When Nanase turns to take his fork in the road, he pauses for a moment to hesitate.

"...Not getting attached won't make the loneliness go away," he says, and the glow of the machine makes his eyes resonate with electric blue.

 _I would know_ , that gaze mirthlessly adds, and Rin feels like he has spent his entire life playing hide and seek with no-one at all.

 

*

 

_On Monday, the patients of the day include: a kid who spends fifteen minutes crying non-stop about his ear, a lady who spends ten minutes crying about a gash on her cheek, a man who spends twenty minutes crying about being told to give up smoking._

Rin calls his sister in the afternoon.

 

*

 

_On Wednesday, the patients of the day include:                         and                           and                              and                            and                                    ???                           maybe                            or                            (yes)_

 

Nanase comes in for his final fracture control.

"I'm leaving for Kyoto," Rin says before the door closes behind his back.

Nanase's eyes flick up, alert and unreadable; when he pulls his knees up on the chair like a cat, it briefly reminds Rin of the yokai he found in his room, and the screeching noise in Rin's chest intensifies.

"There's–– a clinic I'm going to intern at for four months. My sister knows the manager. He's–– he's very esteemed, and apparently he personally asked for me. With his recommendation any hospital in Japan would die to have me."

Rin doesn't know why he feels the need to explain this to Nanase in detail.

He knows Nanase doesn't care.

(About the details, the reasons, the explanations or the excuses; but there's nothing more Rin is capable of giving anyone right now, and it's only fair that Nanase understands this too.)

"Alright," Nanase says, and doesn't sound like anything at all.

It takes Rin until clinical inspection to notice Nanase is no longer wearing a cast. The nurses must have removed it while Nanase had his final x-rays taken, Rin realizes; he's grown so used to seeing the clunky white plaster attached to Nanase's arm that the sight of his pale, bare arm makes Rin do a double-take.

Maybe it's sheer curiosity that distracts him, then, enough to forget about the alarms at the back of his mind. When Rin runs his thumb across the skin of Nanase's hand, it's dry but soft, the muscles firm, his bones intact; and as he tilts the wrist passively, it yields into his touch, and for a moment Rin can't escape the sheer awe at how perfectly Nanase's fracture has healed.

"I tried to lift my bed."

With a light start, Rin's eyes catch Nanase's, and the warmth of his breath comes close enough for Rin to feel it on his skin.

"It was the heaviest thing I could think of. I tried to lift it, so it would put pressure on my arm, so it would dislocate. So I could see you."

Nanase's gaze trails off, but the implication of his words synchronize with the part of Rin that has, perhaps, known the truth all along; the part that has been trying to build barricades between the two of them ever since, living off the same denial that has fueled Rin's life even before his father's death.

Rin takes a deep breath, but never once lets go of Nanase's hand.

"That's really fucked up," he says.

The tremors of Nanase's body resounds against Rin's fingertips before the sound escapes Nanase's lips.

And then Nanase is _laughing_ ;

not the subdued, stifled chuckles he always held back, but an emotion that surges from somewhere deep within his soul; and as disturbing as it could strike Rin, he knows it's not the laughter of someone who has mentally snapped, but a genuine, honest, _relieved_ laugh that instead belongs to a person who feels like he can finally let go pretending like he doesn't know.

"I _know_ ," Nanase hiccups, struggling to recompose himself, "I know, right? How _messed up_ is that?"

He goes on with a calmness setting in his voice, yet it's also filled with cheerless resolve.

"...But I can't do to you what I've done to Makoto."

And it's in that second that Rin wants to take back everything he has just said; wants to forget about his future, his hopes, his dreams; wants to throw away each and every chance he might have to wrench this excuse of a life back together, if only it means not having to leave this nonsensical, infuriatingly beautiful creature behind.

But it is exactly why he has to go.

Because to even entertain such thoughts is most definitely _fucked up,_ too; and where some younger, more desperate version of him might have clung feverishly to the excuses just to feel loved, the adult Rin knows as well as the adult Nanase does that life just doesn't work that way.

Rin may have fixed Nanase's arm, but it is not him who can fix Nanase.

Nanase may have dismantled Rin, but it is not Nanase who can put him back together.

"Yeah," Rin says, and Nanase nods; the skin of Nanase's hand burns under his touch, and the longer Rin holds onto it, the harder it will be to let go.

So he stands up, reaches over for the documents; eyes through them, never taking a single word. Nanase reaches for the door, and it feels like a silent cue.

But it's not the one Rin takes.

(The light suddenly catches the x-ray images, like the radiologist statement catches Rin's eye, and the words _Additional control check recommended in a few months of time, to estimate the possible strain excessive swimming might put on the wrist_ finally register in Rin's brain.)

"W, wait, Haru––"

The name freezes Nanase dead in his tracks.

It's only for a split moment, but it's _there_ – that sudden flash of determination, entirely on par with Nanase's former resolve, and Rin realizes it synchronizes with the part of him that was hoping for it all along.

(Because it might not be a harlequin novel, or a happily-ever-after where witty retorts and sparks in the darkness are enough to get by; but he has regretted far too many things in his twenty six years to regret letting Nanase walk out of his life, without at least owning up to how they feel.)

Two, three steps and the distance disappears.

Two, three seconds and Nanase's fingers hasten around Rin's wrist, fingertips curling around his frantically beating pulse; whether or not it's a territory that Rin has decidedly yet to grant Nanase access to, the fingers linger on his skin like an unspoken invitation that Rin could decline at will.

He doesn't.

He doesn't, doesn't, doesn't decline anything, when Nanase's fingers slide down from his wrist and intertwine with Rin's fingers, and he reaches forward to leans his lips against Rin's own; when the residue of Nanase's nervousness dances down Rin's spine, tightening his grip like he deepens the kiss.

It doesn't last long;

(or maybe it does, but who is Rin to tell)

and when Nanase leans back, a flicker of embarrassment tugs on his expression, like an apology and triumph in one.

"I hope you find your dream," he says.

 _I hope you find it, even if it means not coming back_ , the tranquil blue of his eyes add; and Rin still doesn't know how he can tell but he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will anyone believe me if I say this story was meant to be lighthearted and fun?
> 
> No?
> 
> Well, I hope you'll believe me when I say there's a happy ending waiting for our idiots out there. Honest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's ridiculous how long it took me to edit this, given how long 2/3rds of it was already done.
> 
> But now it's done.
> 
> I hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait.
> 
> (Why, yes, I _do_ love being both canon-referential and self-referential in my works; that's half the fun. Catch the references, or blink and miss.)

 

_On Tuesday, December 15th, there are no patients._

_There is a street, a stream of sounds, and reflections of life wading through the windows on display; there is a sense of mild disconnect amidst traces of a home, as though entering a chapter of a story that never really came to a close._

_There is also a girl._

_On the sidewalk, something soft and small bumps into the back of his leg._

_When he glances down, a waify little thing with wide, green eyes stares up at him like a deer in headlights. Surprise renders her still for a passing heartbeat, but no terror ever crosses her face._

_He looks at her._

_She looks at him._

_She clutches at her scarf, and a voice cuts the air._

_"N––Nana-chan––? Where did you––"_

_The little girl whirls around and sprints back into the crowd, gliding past the passersby with enviable ease. When she reaches the man calling out her name, her hands cling to the back of his thigh._

_"Did you find her? Did she––"_

_Behind them, a young woman pushes through the throng; the dark, loose curls drape over her shoulder like she drapes a hand over the man's arm, before reaching over to hoist up the little girl._

_"There you are! How many times have I told you not to run off without warning? You know papa and I hate that!"_

_The girl pouts, the woman laughs, and the man turns his head._

_In the split second glimpse of Nanase's profile, Rin feels himself pulled back into whichever paragraph he has yet to conclude._

Let's make one thing clear:

This is not how this was supposed to go.

 

*

 

Were this a harlequin novel, Rin would turn the page somewhere around... here.

He would flip flip flip back a hundred pages to the moment he arrived in Kyoto, and relive the days where something fractured within him slowly began to re-align; would try to recall how _free_ he felt on the first Sunday he woke up in his new apartment, and how the busier days flowed together in a stream of excitement and learning, like a relic of another time.

It didn't mean it was any less stressful.

But what it meant was someone _else_ calling the shots, touching his shoulder and telling him to go home at the end of the night;

like the evening he shared with Gou at a kaiten-zushi, piling up colourful plates like the ones of their youth, and how she smiled up at him with relief and said, _I'm so glad you're letting someone else look after you for a while._

Were this a harlequin novel, he would stay somewhere in those pages.

(Would hide between the lines with no definite beginning or an end; gloss over the parenthesis and white-outs, the hasty strike-throughs of words he kept trying to forget;

_Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday Sunday_

each patient as unmemorable as the rest, and never, never _him_ )

If this was a harlequin novel, it would have to mean something.

But it's not.

And he can't.

So let's go back.

 

*

 

_On Monday, the day before Rin sees Nanase out on the town, the patients of the day include: Kato-sensei's wife bringing over a basket of onigiri. A carpenter, who almost spills an entire can of paint on Nagisa. Three kids who run down the stairs laughing and throwing toy frogs at each other, and their mother who rushes past with an apologetic look on her face._

"What the hell have you done to my clinic?!"

To Ryuugazaki's credit, he doesn't break a sweat under Rin's stare.

Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, Ryuugazaki lets out a sigh. "It took you longer to return than planned. And you left me in charge. So I made some changes."

Rin's not sure where to let his eyes fall in the room that used to be his reception; suspicion fills his head once they land on a large plant populated by colourful butterflies. (He swears some of them _glimmer_.)

"...You guys _do_ still practice medicine, right?"

Nagisa towels his wet hair and sticks out his tongue. "After you left, this place seemed too impersonal," he says, dangling his legs over the side of a desk Rin doesn't recognize. "It's a family clinic, so we felt it could use being a bit more... I dunno, accessible?"

Rin's brow twitches.

" _Accessible_ is building a wheelchair ramp. _Accessible_ is not painting tiny sharks all over the walls of my goddamn office!"

"You'd be surprised at how much easier it is to engage the attention of children with those," Ryuugazaki calmly replies, but the honesty in his voice is laced with relief; it's not until then that Rin realizes what looks so different about him is not a new haircut or a trip to the optician, but the lack of heavy lines around Ryuugazaki's eyes.

Okay, so.

Maybe Rin can learn to live with the changes, like Nagisa's colour-coded files and the penguin-emblazoned coffee cups in the sink. Because it also means living with their checking books, and the sudden influx of revenue after what Ryuugazaki describes as "the community finally warming up to a generational change."

All of this is impressive, in ways Rin cannot help but begrudgingly admit to; but the truth is that it's not just the finances or the decorations that leave him feeling overwhelmed.

(When he walks up the steps of the clinic and lets his hand linger in the doorway, it no longer echoes with the expectations he could never live up to while his father was still alive; because there's a blueprint to this place that feels like _him_ , now – feels like Ryuugazaki, and Nagisa, and all the people who have helped shape the place he calls...)

"Congratulations," Nagisa laughs and cheekily slaps Rin on the back.

"It's a little gaudier and dorkier than it was before, but this place is now _yours_."

 

*

 

_On Wednesday, the day after Rin sees Nanase out on the town, the patients of the day include:_

There's only him.

Before Rin, a young man sits in the office, staring him down with eyes unlike anything he has seen before.

His aura is calmer than Rin remembers, as though something has drained the residual bitterness off his entire frame. The gaze he places upon Rin is not unnerving so much as... tentative, like he expects the scene to break at any moment, into a world only filled with mirage.

Nagisa's frantic handwriting makes the document in Rin's hand tremble.

_Nanase, Haruka_

_Reason for arrival: idk i wasn't listening JUST ASK HIM THE HELL OUT ALREADY_

"...You're back?"

The honest hopefulness in Nanase's voice sounds at odds with what he encountered yesterday, and it makes Rin choke down something raw.

"Ah, yeah," he mutters, unable to contain the sudden flustered lightness in his chest; it doesn't help that his response makes Nanase avert his eyes, and an unmistakable, warm hue stains the corners of his pout.

"...You could have called."

Rin wants to scream.

(He's felt like screaming, for the seventeen hours that have passed since he last saw Nanase; in those seventeen hours he has felt like he's a teenager again, and lost, and so irretrievably _tired_ at all the mixed messages bombarding his psyche.)

"Well, it would have been a little embarrassing."

Nanase glances up at him, a perplexed frown settling on his brow.

"You know," Rin adds, and follows up with a loose gesture that means as little as much as it signals everything all at once. "...Because of your girlfriend? And the..."

He catches the utter, dumbfounded bewilderment on Nanase's face, and realizes his mistake at once.

It really is a scene from the most wretched, predictable novel.

( _Of course_ the woman out with Nanase is his sister, or mother, or neighbour; kindergarten teacher, mailman, rare foreign android and god fucking damn it Rin's an _idiot_ ––)

"...You were there."

Rin flinches, right on cue.

Nanase, however, looks lost in thought; his expression remains puzzled, but also dawns with newfound clarity. "...I thought I saw you yesterday. That's... why I came. To make sure."

 _I was in a hurry. You seemed busy. I didn't want to be a bother._ The lies hang on standby, self-consciously anticipating the negative implication of Nanase's words; but when their eyes lock, Nanase's gaze is also resigned with soft empathy.

"She's not my girlfriend," he says. "Yui is Makoto's wife."

_Oh._

Well, that's. That, then.

As Nanase fills him in on the rest of Makoto's family, the sheer Captain Obviousness makes Rin want to clobber himself with a shoe. The little girl is Nanako, their eldest daughter; _Nana-chan doesn't like people using her full name, though_ , Nanase points out, and Rin has to physically fight back the hysterics of realizing Makoto has doomed his child to a life of _Tachibananana_.

Whether it's this mirth or the apparent relief showing on Rin's face, it doesn't take long for Nanase to make the one connection he should not.

"...Wait. You didn't think she was _mine_?"

The sound Rin lets out is less verbal protest and more a gurgling invertebrate; in less than fifteen minutes Nanase has already blindsided him to the point of speechlessness, and it could be unnerving if it wasn't also predictable enough to make him want to cry.

The eyes in Nanase's head roll back with strained patience.

"...It's been _five months_ since you left," he sighs. "Nana-chan is _three years old_."

"I––I can see that," Rin chokes out, finally finding his voice; he knows it's ridiculous, but the flat smugness of Nanase's tone is also more than enough reason to champion such a monumental leap of logic. “…There's plenty of other reasons, though. A previous relationship. Adoption. Shit, I'm still pending on your DNA tests to see whether you're actually human, not some weirdo half human half dolphin demon spawn."

Nanase tilts his head. "Even dolphins take twelve months to develop full term."

“HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT?!"

Throwing up his arms, Rin slumps back in his chair; as the stress and embarrassment roll out as one, he massages the space between his eyes like warding off an impending migraine.

"...I can't believe I came back for _this_ ,” he mutters, but he forgets, he doesn’t forget.

(That Nanase can still read every discarded line, each loose end Rin purposefully holds out knowing nobody will ever ask––)

"Did you?"

(––but five months later, Nanase finally asks.)

Rin lifts his gaze like Nanase lifts to his feet. It doesn't feel like replay so much as it seems preordained; Rin cannot help breathing in dry air when Nanase leans towards him, fingertips grazing the inside of his wrist.

But it's here that the scene breaks.

Nagisa's voice calls out with an apologetic voice: Kururugi-san is here for his ECG, Nanase's shoulders pull back, and Rin wants to destroy something with the force of his mind.

"I had things to do anyway," Nanase says, and almost sounds like he means it.

Rin wants to tell Nanase that all of Nagisa is an audiovisual hallucination; that he'll personally dispose of the bodies of Kururugi-san and any other patient who foolishly thinks he gives a damn about them today, but Nanase's already at the door.

Nanase's hand hits the handle, and a thousand terrible excuses struggle to take shape in Rin’s head.

(But he forgets, he doesn’t forget; that five months later, Nanase needs no-one to call out his name.)

"Makoto's family is coming over for dinner tonight."

A pause.

"...You should come, too."

(Is it a question, though?)

"Yeah," Rin answers anyway.

 

*

 

_Niisan isn't papa. Papa is papa. You're stupid._

Tachibananana finishes her statement with a dramatic pout, and Rin lifts a lone brow at Nanase.

"Are you sure she's not your kid? 'Cause she sounds like your kid."

Makoto lets out a warm laugh, reaching out to add more pickled radish on his daughter's mackerel-dominated bowl.

"Haru helps out with Nana-chan a lot," he smiles, "I think she felt a little sidelined by the baby, so having someone around to give her all that attention is not only a tremendous help, but has also made her quite attached."

Nanase shrugs. "It's just when I have the time."

Makoto exchanges glances with his wife. "You know, when my company went into planning a new recreational center, Haru suggested they reconstruct the old swimming club. The kids there all love him, because he's so blunt and never talks down to them. Can you imagine?"

"It wasn't my idea," Nanase mutters, like trying to stall the inevitable; but when Yui nudges him on the shoulder and laughs, _What's that, getting all bashful in front of Matsuoka-sensei?_ , he cannot deflect the genuine affection in her voice.

On that night in December, a peculiar warmth trickles down Rin's veins.

The house that once echoed with loneliness now resounds with the promise of a raw, unthreaded future. Tachibananana's giggles mix with Makoto's comical panic as she shoves a tiny plastic dolphin up her baby sister's nose; Yui sighs, and in Rin's peripheral vision he can tell Nanase barely fights back the urge to laugh.

When their eyes meet, something unrehearsed crosses Nanase's face.

(Because underneath the sharp edges that used to be Nanase's solitude, now lingers the relief of a man who no longer feels like a burden to those he loves; not an ounce of his attitude has vanished in the time they've spent apart, but it no longer comes doused in shame.)

On that night in December, Makoto touches Rin's arm in the hallway, and leans to whisper something in his ear. These words stay with Rin, like he stays with Nanase, long after Makoto's family bids them goodnight. It's not something that he plans so much as it just happens, because Rin doesn't physically walk out the door; an intangible weight binds him down even after Nanase begins to collect the empty dishes on the table, and his calm gestures almost lull Rin into a pretense of peace.

It's not a mistake he'll make again.

"There wasn't anything actually wrong with you today, right?"

Nanase comes to a halt.

His eyes widen as soon as he grasps Rin's implication, and Rin hates it that he needs to ask but he _has to_ ; they can put up new wallpaper, redecorate his office and act like everything's changed, yet in truth five months is but a blink of an eye.

On this night in December, Rin may have learnt that he does not need to regret the choice to leave.

What he doesn't know is if he's made the right choice in coming back.

"...I had my final check-up a month ago," Nanase finally says; the ceramics clink together on the tray as his slender fingers resume their pace.

A silent defiance enters Nanase's voice, and its unapologetic sharpness also stings.

"I went to the clinic, but you weren't there."

It's not what Rin asked, and both of them know.

(Because the problem, the one tiny thing that Rin has been avoiding having to confront since he showed up at the old train station three days ago is this: at the end of the day, you cannot rely on anyone's answers but your own.)

And so, he could remain quiet, and let the seconds waste away into deliberately missed cues. He could reach out at Nanase, and stutter something nonsensical, like _Look, I–– I really think we should talk about––_ _we need to talk about_ that.

He could say a lot of things, some of which he might even mean, but this is not the universe where a younger, far more insecure version of Rin stares at Nanase's back, and fumbles his way through the dark 'till somehow, perhaps, the two of them get it right.

This is the universe where Nanase faces him head on, and the older version of Rin knows that his words are not only a challenge, but a deliberate sign.

_You weren't there_

_But I came again, anyway_

The ceramics still.

It's not a choice Rin makes with sense and reason; perhaps it's merely a way to avoid having to make one at all. But something in his head is still screaming, Nanase's lips part before the kiss even connects, and it's impossible, impossible to _think_ ––

But it's here that the scene still breaks.

" _God fucking damn it_ ––"

The code emblazoned on the tiny display of his pager is one of apologetic emergency. Rin scrambles to his feet in a panicked reflex, because to encounter one in this dozy little town is as rare as the pocket monsters he could never catch as a kid.

"I–– I really have to take this, Ryuugazaki’s only supposed to use it as a last resort, I'm––"

He takes a deep breath. Nanase doesn’t look upset, and no-one’s died (yet).

"Look, you're–– I know you said you had your final check up, but as your original physicist, I'm vetoing that."

(Rin swallows, throws himself in the dark.)

"Tomorrow. You should come by the clinic tomorrow."

Nanase follows him into the hallway; his expression remains unreadable, but when his back settles against the wall, an almost cat-like, languid grace seeps from his frame.

"No."

Rin lifts a surprised brow. "No?"

"Not unless it’s _doctor’s orders,_ ” Nanase goes on, eyes deadpan, and if Rin didn't know any better he might almost mistake it for––

(wait)

"Nanase Haruka," Rin enunciates dryly, suddenly not a day older than the sixteen-year-old dweeb he might have been in another life. "If you're trying to flirt with me right now, I'm going to––"

"You might want to consult your Hippocratic oath about the rest of that sentence," Nanase cuts him off, and closes the door in Rin's face.

Okay, maybe Nanase's a little upset.

(That better not mean someone's about to die.)

 

*

 

No-one dies.

Ryuugazaki _almost_ does, but only because he has mistaken a frantic phonecall for a stroke; the old man they set about to rescue from the throes of death looks awfully puzzled to find two doctors hell-bent on helping him off the slippery ground.

"This probably isn't what you came back for," Ryuugazaki says afterwards, drowning his embarrassment in a third glass of shochu; and Rin wants to say something smart-ass and disgruntled, just to spite him in ways they're both too old for, but it also reminds him of a moment earlier today.

_Is it?_

He looks at Ryuugazaki, and the snow outside the izakaya that slowly begins to fall.

He looks at his phone, and the stream of messages peppered with Nagisa's nosy emotes.

On his way home he looks at the drink vending machine, bathing in the darkness like a desolate, electric halo; and in that moment he understands the words Makoto whispered in his ear.

_Thank you––_

_not for saving him_

_not for changing him_

_but for giving him a reason to find himself_

 

*

 

_On Thursday, the patients of the day include:_

Abso-fucking-nobody.

That’s not even a word, but Rin doesn’t care; he has scheduled out every single patient, delegated each potential emergency, and sworn to put cyanide in Nagisa's coffee cups if he so much as sets a foot near his office.

If this doesn't stall the universe from trying to mess with his head for at least one morning, he'll have to try superpowers next.

“My reason for arrival is not _acute irritable bowel syndrome_ ,” Nanase mutters as his eyes dart over the document lying on Rin’s desk.

“Well I would have written _chronic attitude syndrome_ , but sadly there’s not an ICD code for that,” Rin snaps, turning around to check for the fifteenth time whether Nagisa’s hiding behind his potted plant.

From the corner of his eye he sees Nanase write something down.

“H, hey. Stop forging my documents.”

“I’m amending them,” Nanase replies, then eyes at Rin sharply. “Unless _you_ want to tell me why I'm really here.”

Rin doesn't know why he ever expected Nanase to beat around the bush – then again, he doesn't know why he expected this to be any easier, either. In the window, fragments of frost tangle in crystal flowers, and in the grey light of day it becomes harder again to let this unintentional game of cat-and-mouse come to an end.

“I told you. I don’t trust Ryuugazaki’s evaluation, so I wanted to see your arm.”

Nanase gives him a blank look.

Then he rolls up his sleeve.

“Here.”

He rolls it down.

“Bye.”

Yeah, Rin really should have seen that one coming.

Yet whether it's thanks to his amazing reflexes, or the fact that Nanase probably never truly means to leave this room, it doesn't take much to seize that hand; Nanase whirls around, bumps into Rin’s chest, and the glare he shoots is so juvenile and reminiscent that it makes Rin want to laugh.

(Laughing, crying; it's all the same these days, it seems.)

"I'm," Rin begins, but realizes there is nothing at all he wants to say; nothing he _can_ say, really, for the abrupt hysteria that bubbles up within him, like teenage giddiness under Nanase's frustrated stare.

It lasts him, long enough to dissolve any remnant of a passerby fear.

It lasts him until his fingers run up the nape of Nanase’s neck, nestling in the strands of dark hair; and Rin doesn't mean to (tilt up Nanase's chin) (graze the side of his mouth) (nudge apart his lips) follow it up, like he has done every night, in the infuriating dreams that never really went away; but he does.

He does, and then he doesn't know why he ever _didn't_ ; because the past few months may have taught Rin what it feels like to live again, but a single trace of Nanase's tongue still bursts his skin aflame, and it's impossible, impossible to deny--

(that there is anything in the world, anything at all,

capable of making him come alive like Nanase goddamn Haruka.)

When Rin breaks the kiss, something twitches on Nanase’s face, like for the first time ever Rin has finally caught him off guard.

It's unexpectedly light to breathe.

"...That's," Rin says, "Probably. The real reason I asked you over."

But this meager attempt at verbal communication also serves to distract him, long enough to miss Nanase shift; a weight lands on the small of his back, and with unexpected strength Nanase pins him between himself and the desk.

But hey.

When you really think about it, what’s a man to _do_ ;

(when Nanase’s teeth pull at his bottom lip and somehow Rin’s hands are under Nanase’s shirt and there’s a hum in his head like a wandering feed; two files scatter their contents on the floor where his elbow knocks them over, and it’s a mess and Rin’s a mess and Nanase’s a mess but it’s _their mess_ , one Rin is tired of pretending he doesn’t need.)

Surely, there’s a lot of questionable decisions he has made in his life. Later, he might even wonder how high on that list it ranks to have sex in your office in broad daylight; but it's not something he feels preoccupied while only one of his hands remains unoccupied and his mind is at complete, irrefutable disarray.

But let's make one thing clear:

This is exactly how this was supposed to go.

*

 

"...I imagined this going very differently in my head."

Nanase shrugs. "I didn't."

“Shut up,” Rin grumbles, but his heart’s not in it; his heart is somewhere in his stomach, weighing down his limbs.

For a while, Nanase says nothing.

In the ten or so minutes they've spent reeling back to reality, the self-conscious part of Rin has already run a thousand worst case scenarios over in his head. The instinct comes to him like an annoying, old friend: every emotional impulse bears a consequence, and it's only natural to prepare for anything that might come to pass those lips next.

“…Are those shark decals?”

But not that.

“…Hey, that's all Nagisa's fault,” Rin groans into Nanase's shoulder, combativeness concealing his relief, “You don't know what he's like. It was either those or the uniforms.”

Nanase’s head turns with sudden curiosity, but Rin cuts him off with a shove.

“First off, we’re _not_ discussing that. Secondly, if I wanted to live my life like an extra on _Cosplay Gone Wild_ , I’d have gone ahead and became a police officer.”

“…You wanted to be a police officer?” Nanase asks, unfazed; Rin could point out that this is by far the least relevant thing to know on the floor of his office on a Thursday afternoon in various states of undress, but then, he has also long since given up hope that any of this made sense.

“ _No_ ––“ he says, flustered at how effortlessly the scene strikes Nanase as natural, “I mean, yeah, when I was like, _six_ , but––“

“I wanted to be a fish.”

 “…Alright, this is officially the weirdest post-sex conversation I have had in my life."

“Then I realized that wasn't a real job. And I thought I could become a chef.”

“...Well, unexpected news at eleven––”

“So I could have cooked all the fish I wanted.”

“––Or not.”

“But in the end I didn’t.”

Nanase’s eyes fix on a spot somewhere over Rin's shoulder, and his voice comes out airy yet unarguably sincere; the snarky retort dies on Rin’s tongue, the second he understands the words Nanase leaves unsaid.

_I didn’t become a fish._

_I didn’t become a chef._

_I didn’t become anything._

Rin knows it’s not meant to rouse pity – it’s simply a fact.

(But it also triggers something in him, like a memory, or two thirds of an epiphany on its way; and it might be crazy for that revelation to hit him on that same office floor on that same Thursday afternoon, still in various states of undress, but Rin needs to seize it before it’s gone.)

All his life, Nanase only ever did what he wanted.

All his life, Rin only ever did what others wanted of him.

In the end, neither of them ever really found what they were looking for, but...

"I didn't come back for this, you know."

There is less surprise on Nanase's face when Rin holds his gaze; less confusion, or even the disappointment Rin may have feared. Because it's been five months and it might be Nanase, who still looks at him like he _knows_ ;

_(Just because you didn't become what you always thought you would_

_doesn't mean you can't become happy)_

but it's Haruka who reaches out for Rin's hand.

"Don't be an idiot," he says, matter-of-factly.

"You came back for you."

 

*

_On Monday, the patients of the day include: Kaoru-chan, who tripped while running and sprained her ankle. Yamada-san, whose erysipelas has returned with the vengeance of a thousand suns. A guy called Mikoshiba Momotarou, who comes in with a concussion; he almost leaves with another one, after trying to steal the picture of Rin's sister on his desk._

When Nagisa sneaks into his office, Rin knows he's in trouble.

All Nagisa does is slink in to drop off a piece of paper, then slink back out; but his entire posture screams of stifled glee, and anything that has the power to subdue Nagisa's excitement to that extent must be government level bad news.

Rin picks up the file.

He gets two words into Haruka's name at the top of the paper, before his eyes jump onto the transcription field – down to the visitation column he is dead certain he never narrated on tape.

Not on purpose, anyway.

_[beginning of transcript]_

_Unidentified: kshh shhdsdshfs_

_[transcriber's note: I'm pretty sure these are the sounds of someone's ass hitting the tape recorder, but I'm just making an educated guess.]_

_Matsuoka: Ah, shit, I––_

_Nanase: Idiot–– [unidentified] That's––_

_Matsuoka: Whatever, it doesn't–– mph–– Ah––_

_Nanase: Rin, I––_

_Matsuoka: H, hey, don't just [unidentified]_

_Matsuoka: Okay, do just [unidentified]_

_[transcriber's note: I wasn't sure how to transcribe all of the sounds after this point, so I made more educated guesses!]_

_Nanase: [the sound of a dolphin in heat]_

_Matsuoka: Shit shit shit shit shit_

_Matsuoka: [some kind of dying animal trying to transmit a final message to its kind]_

_Nanase: Why are you–– so noisy––_

_Matsuoka: YOU SHUT YOUR––mmphh_

_Nanase: Ah, that's–– mhhm–– oh_

_Unidentified: ksssh chshshhh shhhs_

_[transcriber's note: pretty sure this is more stuff falling over]_

_Matsuoka: Shit fuck shit––_

_Nanase: Don't even think–– [unidentified]_

_Matsuoka: [a human teapot?? maybe??]_

_Matsuoka: H, Haru––_

_Nanase: [the sound of someone choking on air, or alternatively, their feelings]_

_Unidentified: kshdhssk clack_

_[transcriber's note: the tape cuts off here]_

Rin nearly pulls the door off its hinges.

Yet all the elaborate and needlessly painful ways he can think of snapping Nagisa's neck will have to wait for another day; only sheer professionalism silences the obscenities before they leave Rin's mouth, the moment he stomps out of his office and bumps into something small.

This time it's not a child.

"Oh," the middle-aged lady says, with her hand still stretched out in a knock. "I'm–– I'm sorry. I'm not too early, am I?"

It's not an appointment Rin remembers having scheduled, but it's still written out on his forms: the lady has been called in for a routine check-up control, after a brief stint of erratic heart palpitations last week.

"Well," Rin says, and that single word aptly describes his entire state of mind.

So they go in, and run some quick blood tests. Check her troponin T, and compare ECGs. All the standard procedures, ones Rin could complete blindfolded, hands behind his back, in his sleep.

It is not this that makes him restless.

_I'm so glad there's a clinic like this here. I only moved to Iwatobi two months ago, and doctors usually make me nervous. But you seem very nice._

The lady smiles with genuine friendliness, and Rin feels his own heart skip a beat.

 _I admit I was surprised that you were so young_. _But then, my son is like that too – so career driven, and ambitious to a fault. Come to think of it, you must be around his age._

It's a deliberate opening, hanging in the air for Rin to once again seize or ignore at will; he has been deflecting them for so long, now, that the polite rejection hangs at the tip of his tongue.

One word, to cue her in that the visit is over. One word, to close the door to disappointment and heartbreak; that's all it ever takes.

But it's not the choice Rin makes.

_What does your son do?_

(The snow keeps falling, covering this silent town in a soft white gauze; and Rin doesn't know how, but somewhere he can still hear a distant, delicate chime.)

Delight creases the corners of the lady's eyes, like unconscious relief. _He's–– a professional swimmer_ , she says, _He finally made the Olympic team a couple of years back; I'm very proud of him, of course, but sometimes––_

Her smile flickers with something bittersweet.

_Sometimes I think he must get very lonely._

Rin's pen comes to a halt.

 _I used to get lonely, too_.

(He doesn't know why he says it.)

_I used to be lonely, before I came to this town._

(Maybe, he says it because it's true.)

But the expression on the lady's face softens, and she lets out a little laugh; leaning forward in her chair, she speaks with renewed joy.

 _I suppose I made the right choice moving here, then_. _My son is coming in for New Year – maybe you and your friends could show him around town._

It takes Rin aback, and only an unexpected fluster holds back the rehearsed response.

No––

it's more than a fluster.

It's a penguin mug on the top of his shelf, a pair of small whale mittens and a green scarf forgotten on the stand; a Spring schedule highlighted in purple marker, and next to it, a document, where the entire top column has been crossed out by a determined hand:

_Name: Nanase, Haruka_

_Reason for arrival: I don't want to make excuses anymore_

Rin glances back up, and feels his shoulders relax for the first time in twenty-six years.

"I would be happy to," he says, "Yamazaki-san."

 

*

 

He never wanted his life to sound like something out of a cheesy harlequin novel.

(That's not... )

Let's try this one more time.

So once upon a time there was a boy, right?

And maybe in another universe that boy might have, you know, had a dream; a dream he lost, and then regained, with the help of another boy whose faith was as unyielding as it was naïve.

Maybe in that universe, the two of them grew up together, shared that dream together, and got tangled in a future founded on idealism and hope; surrounded themselves with friends, future, and fortitude, and went on to change themselves forever.

But this isn't that universe.

This is the universe where life doesn't always turn out the way you expect it to; the one with a boy who grew up bitter, and a boy who grew up alone. The universe where the years go by like a stream of forgotten memories, and one day you wake up wondering just how many of them have already gone to a waste.

But it's also the universe where the seasons change, and old ladies stop to talk to him on the street; the universe where he goes home at the end of the night, and there's a boy who waits for him in the glow of the drink vending machine, with eyes like the winter sea.

(Because what there is, is a path – a trail of footsteps, forever winding, but one he helped shape himself.)

At the age of twenty-six, Matsuoka Rin knows there is no such thing as second chances.

Not because he doesn't believe in them –he's a realist! it is what it is!– but because he doesn't need one.

After all, even in this universe, he finds his shining.

That part never changes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took out the time to read (and specifically comment) on this story.
> 
> I'm not sure if I'll venture into AUs with Harurin again, but if I do, it will be thanks to you guys' support.


End file.
